Running from Fire
by WaruWaru
Summary: Fear: a powerful force, capable of eliminating all humanity and turn mountains into dust. When the materialization of this force threatens with returning, seven prophecy-less heroes are chosen to try and save their world from an uncertain fate. -The flames of death have been ignited, and the race for life has started- [ACCEPTING OC's!] (swearing, violence, and innuendos included)
1. Prologue

**.**

 **-OoOoO—**

 **Running from Fire**

 **-OoOoO—**

 **-Prologue-**

" _Papa, tell us a story!"_

 _A fire danced in the hearth, weaving its invisible fingers of warmth around the dimly-lit room. The wind roared outside, carrying the sharp cold with it, pushing everything living into hiding. Not even the evil creatures that roamed the world of shadows dared to walk out that night._

 _However, inside the little wooden hut, the cold couldn't reach. It was warm and cozy in there, like any proper home should be. Four humans took residence inside, the humble family of a lumberjack._

" _Ah, but I'm tired…" A deep voice answered, muffled by a thick beard._

 _It was a rather comforting scene, the family sitting on the navy blue carpet around the fireplace, stomachs full of fresh mushroom stew._

" _Please, papa." The little girl turned to look at her father with her bright, honey-colored orbs._

 _The large man grunted before caving in. "Alright- but you'll go to sleep afterwards."_

 _No response was heard, instead, both children adjusted their position so that they were looking at their dear father with expecting eyes._

 _The man inhaled deeply before starting, and his wife giggled at the action._

" _Once, there existed a paradise where happiness reigned and everything was in perfect balance. Its inhabitants were mere perfection – legend says that the beauty they held was something of another world; that even the most gorgeous creature in this land would look like the most terrible of zombies beside them. These marvelous beings lived in cities of diamond and quartz with towers as tall as the tallest of mountains. They lived in a perfect harmony, one where disputes never occurred._

 _This wonderful paradise was reigned by four deities whose powers held it all together: the gods of the land, Notch and Herobrine; and the goddesses of the living, Vita and Mortem. They distributed the power evenly and lived as equals, this was done to avoid any conflict._

 _The four of them had descendants of their own, powerful beings born of their own flesh that helped keep peace._

 _It all was, at its least, perfect._

 _However, the gears of the universe don't, and will never, cope well with perfection._

 _Out of the four gods, Mortem was the least worshipped by the populace. She symbolized death itself, and even the beings of this paradise were ever so-slightly afraid of the force she represented. The other gods ignored this fact, and she did too, for a while._

 _But then, slowly, evil started to slither into her soul, fueled by her jealousy. She craved for the power the others had, for the love they received. So, she planned their downfall. But it wasn't something she could do alone._

 _She went to Herobrine, who was the closest one to her, and planted the seed of discord in his heart with a couple of well-thought words. As the seed evolved, he became tainted too. Being the less rational of the four, Herobrine suddenly declared a full out war on Notch and Vita, the favorites of the folk. He and his followers wreaked havoc upon the land, and all order was broken. The paradise went up in flames with rage, and war consumed it all._

 _In the end, however, Herobrine was defeated and his army destroyed. He was then stripped of most of his power and sent to a hell-like prison, called the Nether, along with his remaining followers._

 _For the inhabitants of the broken paradise, it was over like that. They started to rebuild their homes and tried to return to their old lifestyles. However, that wouldn't happen. The world had been already thrown off-balance, and would never go back. The three remaining gods knew this; two were concerned by it, while the third couldn't be happier._

 _For Mortem, Herobrine's fall was a plan executed to perfection. She played as a mere spectator during the war, watching her opponents walk blindly into her trap. While Notch's and Vita's legions were weakened and reduced, her followers remained unscathed and grew in number. She also managed to secretly channel most of Herobrine's taken power into her own, thus becoming the most powerful deity._

 _Yet, her greatest achievement was the confection of deathfire. A dreadful substance sparked by the rupture of balance in the world; a power to be feared. It could burn through anything, magical or non-magical, physical or spiritual. Even souls were turned to nothing when bit by its deathly flames._

 _A few months after the war, she set it free. She armed a thousand of her soldiers with it and sent them out with a single objective: To burn everything. In a single day countless lives were lost, cities turned to nothing, and entire kingdoms disappeared. The world was thrown back into a war, one that was a hundred times crueler than the previous one. One which Death won with little to no effort._

 _Notch and Vita tried, to no avail, to put out the fire, thing that proved impossible. Drawn to the edge by the cries of the lost souls, Vita, mother of all the living, decided to give up her and her descendants' souls to save what was left. She exchanged every bit of herself in order to save the souls touched by the fire and send Mortem to an eternal confinement in the Void, a limbo between reality and oblivion._

 _With that, the war was drawn to a close. Leaderless, Mortem's followers surrendered, and life triumphed once again. However, the heat of deathfire had turned the once-prosperous paradise into a wasteland where life wasn't able to survive. The paradise had met its end._

 _Knowing this, Notch managed to create a new world for the few survivors. However, he couldn't recreate the paradise by himself. The land was full of imperfections, and its new residents were easily tainted by sin. This new, flawed land, was called Minecraftia. Our Minecraftia"_

 **He-hello there! Waru here!**

 **So, two things.**

 **This is a reboot of a story I was writing a while ago on another account, called "Gods' Games". Even though I'm keeping the main storyline, a lot of other things will change.**

 **I'm accepting OC's! I'm going to need eight of them for now: four in the light side and four in the darker one. To get the application form, leave a review or PM me a request. Please specify if you want the bad or good guys' form. I'll warn you, there are a couple of restrictions: for one, I'm avoiding all overpowered characters. If you send me an Oc I think needs some toning down, I'll do it myself. Second, if I see there are too many submissions of a certain gender (male, for example), I may forbid any more submissions with that gender and maybe even genderbend a couple (of course, with your permission).**

 **Well, that's all for now! Cya!**


	2. Chapter 1

**-OoOoO—**

 **Running from Fire**

 **-OoOoO—**

 **-Chapter 1-**

* * *

 _It was dark. Painfully familiar screams of despair rang all around her, filling the thick air. A few clashes of steel interrupted the terrible racket from time to time, only to be silenced with more cries. She could hear laughter too, deep voices expressing amusement by the suffering._

 _Her small frame was shaking uncontrollably, and the sheer panic she held was the only thing that kept her from whimpering. She was frozen in place, she knew that any movement could give off her hiding spot beneath a dirt block. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she heard the shrieks of a particular, loved individual just above her. Another voice chuckled, and the thud of a body falling to the ground was heard._

" _Come on, dearie, you'll fetch us a plump little fortune with that pretty face of yours." The voice said, tingled with amusement. "It's almost a waste just selling you away… I think no one would mind if I played a bit with you first." The voice laughed. "Yes, yes, that sounds just right." Another loud thud, and the screams stopped, one less from the crowd._

 **-OoOoO—**

Kyra wasn't on a good mood that morning. She'd woken up a couple of hours too early from a reiterative nightmare, only to find it impossible to go back to sleep. A fast trip to her pantry then proved that she was out of bread and wheat, forcing her to get out to her backyard to look for some while it was still dark; resulting in her getting pounced on by a damned spider that met an early end. To top it off, she wasn't a morning person.

Once the sun had risen and mobs started to burn, she was ready to go. Her inventory was almost full, stocked up for the week-long journey before her. Her horse, a hot-headed stallion with a maroon coat and jet-black mane, neighed with anticipation when she emerged from her modest wooden cottage. With a thunderous step, he approached her and, once close enough, nudged her with his muzzle as a greeting.

"Good morning, Sagen." She said softly, running her right hand over his heavily muscled neck in a soft caress.

The horse nudged her again, rougher than the first time. Kyra pouted, knowing what the gesture meant. "'think you only stick with me only because I give you apples." He snorted and nudged her again. "Alright, alright, Mr. Demanding." She took one of the sweet red fruit from her inventory and gave it to him. It was gone in less than a second. She reached for a saddle next and placed it over the content creature.

"Done here." She mumbled to herself once she finished with the task. "Now, just where is she…" Kyra whistled once. Nothing happened. Twice. A bit annoyed, she whistled a third time.

 _Fwoosh_!

A cloud of grey particles appeared a couple of blocks from Kyra, and, once cleared, revealed a rather unusual mob. It was snow white wolf with icy blue eyes, almost twice the size of a normal wolf, with a bloodied muzzle. Around its neck was a blue collar with a nametag that had 'Kyra, Gyna Woods' written on the back.

"Oh, for Notch's sake, Rive!" Kyra sighed heavily. "Not even the decency to clean yourself after eating. I can't bring you into town like that!"

The wolf just barked as an answer, a strong, loud sound. Her fluffy tail wagged from side to side, expressing happiness.

"Notch…" The young woman turned around and climbed up to Sagen's saddle, adjusting her crimson long coat as she did so. She took the reins in her lightly calloused hands and rolled her shoulders.

"It's time to go."

 **-OoOoO—**

Ragedale was a small, modest town. Other than having an inn that boasted not having any flees in the beds and didn't charge extra for fresh water, its residents had nothing to brag about. Its few streets were muddy and reeked of bodily wastes, and both pigs and cows roamed about freely, contributing to the smell.

Still, outsiders weren't uncommon. It laid near one of the most popular roads in the small kingdom of Ditus, located right in-between two large (and very wealthy) kingdoms, Akheral to the east, and Witos to the west. Ragedale inn was then a favorite among experienced merchants.

Still, to the townsfolk, Kyra was an oddity of the most curious. Merchants usually came in groups, big or small, with donkeys carrying large amounts of cargo. Instead, she was always alone and, instead of a donkey, had an enormous wolf at her side. But, strangest of all, she never stopped at the inn. She just visited the town's blacksmith and left. It unnerved the people to no end.

Yet, she had her reasons.

As always, the first thing she did once she walked inside the blacksmith was to scrunch up her nose at the smell. It was thick, smoky, and reeked of burning metal and charred wood. Mix that with the odor wafting from the streets and you've got a terribly disturbing mix. And that isn't where the horror stops. The walls of the blacksmith were cobblestone from bottom to top, making it a big oven. It lacked any kind of decoration and there were no more windows than the strictly necessary. The 6x6 room had a suffocating low ceiling, a bunch of furnaces and a crafting table on the bottom wall, a stone counter two blocks from the door with many chests behind it; and another door in the left wall.

In the middle of the room, working on an anvil, was the blacksmith herself.

She was quite short and wore an oversized and worn down overall that hid her thin and curve-less, but surprisingly muscular, body. Her dark skin was covered with freckles and sweat, the soft features of her face framed with short, thick, curly, and dark hair.

"Good morning, Ivy."

The working woman quickly set down what she was doing and turned her head so that her large, pale grey eyes met Kyra's. She then took out a clock and looked at it.

"Kyra, you are early today." Was all she said, face stoic.

"I know. I woke up earlier. Is there something wrong with that?" Unintentionally, the phrase came out sounding sharper than expected.

Ivy didn't answer. Instead, she walked towards a chest, opened it, and took out a long bundle of cloth. As she laid it upon the counter, metal clinked inside. Kyra moved the fabric aside to uncover what laid below. Two gorgeous iron scimitars with emerald-embedded hilts, and a heavy longsword with an intricate lapis lazuli hilt.

Kyra chuckled for the first time in the day. "You got really creative this month…" She clicked her tongue. "I know a couple of lordlings that'd pay a fat bag for these." Her gaze met Ivy's. "All of this talent, and you stay here. A true pity. Better for me I guess."

Kyra was what you could call a lazy merchant. She bought normal -yet elaborate- items, like Ivy's swords, at a relatively low price, and sold them to rich people at a much higher price by claiming they had some sort of unique feature, be it an unexpected origin, an amazing backstory, or even magic qualities. Surprisingly, it always went more than smoothly.

"False," Ivy said, suddenly. "I'm moving."

Kyra choked on her own spit. After a long fit of dry coughing, she was left with a sore throat. " _What?_ " She croaked.

"Next week. Too far for you to come look for me."

"Oh, come on! You jest."

The pale-eyed female's expression didn't change, and silence filled the room. With a low groan, Kyra dropped a small pouch filled with gold nuggets on the counter. "Is this enough?"

Ivy took the pouch and it disappeared into her inventory. She then turned around and returned to her anvil.

Defeated, and on a worse mood than when she woke up, Kyra placed the swords on her inventory and left, heading south.

For her, that day couldn't get worse. Oh, how wrong she was.

 **-OoOoO—**

After a few hours, she had arrived to her first spot. As she had calculated, the sun was already setting and Kyra could hear growls and moans coming from the deep shadows of the forest. Before her loomed the massive stone walls of the Hurga fortress, a massive watchtower that cast its shadow upon the shores of the Amontiguado Lake. It's walls were surrounded by a deep lava motte and topped with giant crossbows ready to be manned.

On that particular day, the fortress was also on fire.

 **-OoOoO—**

? POV

 _The being had been in that endless cage for so long, so painfully long, that reality had started to blur out and time ceased to exist. Centuries were hours and hours were centuries. It had long gone mad, and nothing made sense anymore. Whatever might have come before its imprisonment had been long forgotten, and not even hate towards the jailor remained._

 _To the being, the only thing that mattered were those small green embers that floated steadily before its motionless body. They had been its only companion, and every twinkle they presented filled the being with excitement. Because of that, it would be only logical that when the weak little embers grew into a shining green fireball, the being was more than thrilled._

* * *

 **Hiya! This is a lot earlier than what I expected… I was just extremely inspired. Shoutout to my beta reader, Aquatic Lunar Aspen Tribute. Yush!**

 **-Waru**


	3. Chapter 2

**.**

 **-OoOoO—**

 **Running from Fire**

 **-OoOoO—**

 **-Chapter 2-**

* * *

Kyra had always been a fan of fire. She loved seeing the lovely orange and red flames dance in the air, she adored the soft glow of dying embers, she cherished the heart-filling crackling of burning wood.

However, in that moment, she found herself hating those gorgeous flames. Her beloved flames swirling upon the tall walls and towers of the Hurga fortress were not a nice sight. That meant she couldn't try selling anything there now, only prolonging her monthly quest. _How annoying._ After that disappointing fact settled in, a question popped up.

"Hey, Rive?" the wolf looked up at Kyra, annoyance present in her eyes. Was it possible that the animal was going through the same reluctant thoughts? "What do you think happened here?"

Rive just stared at her for a couple of seconds before averting her gaze in a clear 'I don't care' manner.

Kyra pouted at the blank answer and turned her gaze back to the building. Maybe a kitchen accident? Or someone playing with a flint and steel? It was then that she noticed that the large oaken drawbridge had succumbed to the flames completely, leaving open a wide view of the charred courtyard inside. If any of her two theories were right; there would be people running around trying to put out the fire, thing that proved untrue. From the little she could see, the castle was empty. She frowned. _Now, that's strange…_

She hopped off of Sagen's saddle and put down a fence, tying the horse's lead to it afterwards. She turned to Rive, who was now watching her with newly found interest. "Let's go investigate, okay?" she suggested and, not waiting for an answer, headed towards the fortress. The fire started to die down as she approached; probably out of things to burn. Since the drawbridge and gate were gone, she made a dirt bridge to cross the lava motte below.

Smoke wafted from the burnt grass and dirt of the courtyard, enveloping her in its warm embrace. Yet, it did little to cool her blood which ran cold at the sight before her. The site was devoid of life, yes, but not empty.

Rive growled beside her.

Burnt bodies littered the floor, clutching swords, axes, and bows; the vestiges of a lost battle. After gulping down the initial shock, she shuffled towards one of the corpses. It was a man wearing the fortress's banner on his iron chestplate. Kyra checked other close by bodies, all the same: men with equal banners.

She ruffled her own hair. "…where are the women?"

"Gone," a deep, matured voice sounded behind her.

Startled, she turned around and immediately pulled out one of the scimitars from her inventory. "Get away!" Rive, who had been mingling about at the other side of the large yard, appeared at her side in a puff of grey particles when she heard her shout.

"Hey, hey! Calm down, will ya'? I mean no harm, miss." The owner of the voice lifted up his arms in surrender, a smirk on his face. He was a rather old man, probably on his late fifties; with ashen hair, dark eyes, and wrinkled, sun-spotted skin. He held an enchanted diamond sword on his right hand and wore some worn down blue jeans and a teal-colored shirt.

Kyra narrowed her eyes at the man and pointed the sword at the man in a defensive pose. "Why are you here?"

The man clicked his tongue. "That's a nice sword you have there, miss." He eyed the blade, ignoring the question. "It's not yours, huh? Or, at least, you don't know how to use it correctly. You are holding it all wrong!" The man chuckled lightly.

The girl in question swung down the blade aggressively and Rive snapped at the stranger, fur standing on end. "Answer me!"

"Oh, my! Relax, dearie!" the man disappeared his sword into his inventory. "I repeat: I mean no harm." He grinned. "I'm just an innocent ol' traveler. I was, you know, wandering along the coast of this gorgeous lake when I saw this place on fire. Obviously, I came over 'ere to look what it was all about. Nothing else, miss."

Kyra lowered her weapon, not yet putting it away. "How strange, for an old man like you to be wandering about."

"Hey! I'm not that old!" he pouted, "Anyways, you are one to speak. A young miss like you shouldn't be wanderin' around on her own."

"That's none of your business." Kyra turned her gaze at one of the bodies. "Do you have an idea of what may have happened here?"

The man looked up to the sky. "Well, they were attacked, that's obvious. They weren't ready for the attack; the men are barely geared up. Whoever did this is very strong, they didn't have a single casualty by the looks of it. They also took away those who didn't fight and every single woman, the corpses are all male soldiers."

Kyra huffed. "All that I already know. Anything else?"

"Well, I also found this too." He extended a purple rag to her. "It was nailed to one of the bodies. Don't know where it's from, though. "

Cautiously, Kyra took the piece of cloth in her hands. The rich purple fabric was stained with dry blood and ashes. She unfolded it and felt goosebumps crawl up her arms as she stared at the figure that was painted into the cloth in black: simple smiling lips with a navy blue tongue sticking out.

* * *

 _Flashblack_

 _Only the gods could tell how long she had been there, hidden under the dirt. The screams had long faded away, taking all those unknown voices with them. She'd heard the crackling of fire afterwards and didn't dare to leave her hiding spot until the world fell into silence once again. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she emerged from her haven beneath the destruction. The brightly colored tents that she'd spent a year living in were reduced to colorless ashes, and the bodies of men she had just started to accept as her family covered the ground._

 _In the midst of it all stood a dark purple flag portraying a dark blue tongue._

* * *

"Slave traders…" Kyra's voice was barely audible as she muttered those words, yet didn't remain unheard.

"Slave traders?" the man repeated, louder. "Erm, miss, what do you mean with that?"

Kyra dropped the banner. "They were the ones who did this…"

He scoffed. "Ridiculous! There are no such thing in this side of the world. And even if they did, it's just plain stupid for them to attack a _fortress._ "

"You are clearly not from around here." Kyra sighed heavily. "These guys have been around for a while now, around a decade. Either way, slavery is legal around here. The government doesn't want to do anything about it… It's an easy way to get rid of people with too many debts and get cheap workers."

"But still, this is impossible! This doesn't look like somethin' the government would do, miss. You are talking plain crazy."

"I have no need to explain this to you. I'll just leave now, since you aren't keen on listening." Kyra snapped and turned around to leave.

"Wait!" the old man shouted after her. "You shouldn't leave, miss. Night's falling, you know?"

She harrumphed and looked up at the sky. _Shoot… Old bones is right._

"Let's just set up camp and continue with the talking later, aye?"

Kyra ruffled her own hair once again. "…fine."

* * *

A few minutes passed by, and a makeshift dirt shelter was set up. Kyra would have preferred sleeping inside the ruins of the main building, but the stone walls and floor were still too hot from their contact with fire. She had set up some torches around the small dirt hut and lit a small fire in the center of it. Kyra didn't take her eyes off the old man during the whole process, not yet trusting him. _Can't I just tell him off?_ Something told her that that action was simply impossible. Rive seemed to remain wary of the man as well, snarling at every sudden movement.

"Hey, could you tell your dog to stop glaring at me? It's a bit unnerving, miss." The man said as he finished setting up a bed across from Kyra, who had just put down a simple sheepskin carpet.

"No. And she isn't a 'dog'." she answered dryly.

"You are quite a moody one, aren't 'ya?" He sat down on his bed. "Were did you get such a big pet, anyways? I haven't seen one of those in this area… Last time I saw one I was lost up North, in a goddamned mountain biome." The man clicked his tongue, a habit Kyra found very annoying. "Tried rippin' my head off, that cursed beast. I have to say though, it made for a fine coat."

Kyra glared at the man. "I wonder why it wanted to kill you in the first place…" she muttered. "Creatures of this sort don't attack without a good reason."

"You might be right on that." The man let out a chuckle. "And you avoided my question."

Kyra looked at the wolf that was curled up against her. "Somewhere. It doesn't matter."

He sighed heavily. "Are you always this stubborn? Actually, don't answer, miss." He rolled his eyes and at this moment was that Kyra took note of how childish the man acted. "Now that I think of it, I haven't introduced myself. I'm Steve, legendary adventurer. You've probably heard of me, anyways. My tales of prowess have traveled far and wide; from the busiest city to the darkest of cave settlements." He announced, proudly.

Kyra raised an eyebrow. "Really? I've never heard of you." Not surprising, actually. She didn't have much contact with other people, not even during her travels. "And because of that, I don't believe you." It wouldn't be the first time she met with someone claiming great feats, anyways.

"Do as you must, miss." Steve settled into his bed. "Well, would you mind explaining all that with slave traders you were talkin' about earlier?"

"Well," Kyra took a deep breath. "Since there hasn't been any wars recently, the slave business has been lacking resources. You know, most of the slaves are war captives anyways. Because of this, a specific group of traders has been attacking large merchant caravans and the such. People are afraid to travel in large groups now…"

The old man rose an eyebrow. "How come I didn't know of this?"

"No one dares to speak about it… This particular organization is quick to clean up any disputes, anyways. It's probably what happened here. This stronghold's lord must have had a dispute with the organization."

The old man grumbled under his breath something that remained unheard before burying himself underneath his covers. "Oh, well. You take the first watch, will ya? These old bones are getting rusty and need some rest." His words lingered in the air for a moment before he continued on with his chatter. "Um… I've been meaning to ask this for a while. I'm looking for someone; that's the reason of me being here. As you previously pointed out, I'm a foreigner… Well, I'm on a quest right now, set by the higher ups."

"Higher ups? Your king you mean?"

"Ah, no, miss. I come from the kingless continent, down south. We've got no rulers over there. I guess I'm what you kingdom-folks call a lawless barbarian?"

Kyra nodded. _Of course._ She'd read about that area of the world. Uncharted land, far wider than any known continent. There were recognized settlements here and there, but nothing big. Few dared to travel there, only seasoned explorers and outlaws boarded ships to cross the vast sea that separated it from known territory.

"Then who sent you here?" _A tribe leader or something, surely._

"Ah well…" Steve chuckled to himself again. "You'll think I'm crazy miss, but I'll tell you anyway." He looked up to the sky, visible through the whole in the roof Kyra left for the smoke to exit. "This quest was set upon me by no man other than Notch 'imself."

She raised an eyebrow; the man had definitely gone mad. _That explains a lot._ Deciding to go with the flow, Kyra cleared her throat. "And this person you look for… Who are they?"

"I'm not sure it's a human though…" He shook his head. "' _The fallen beast.'_ That's what Notch called it. He said they go by the name ' _Kyra'._ "

The young woman's heart skipped a beat at the sound of her name.

"Do you, miss," the man carried on, "know anything about this? Where I might find them?"

Kyra struggled to find her voice.

"No." She finally replied, as clearly as she could. "First time I've heard that name."

* * *

 **Heeeeeeey… long time no see…. Haha…**

 **Sorry…**


	4. Chapter 3

**.**

 **-OoOoO—**

 **Running from Fire**

 **-OoOoO—**

 **-Chapter 3-**

* * *

Kyra barely slept that night. Her mind was left scavenging the discoveries the day had brought. She thought of Ivy and the repercussions her departure would have on her business: she would need to find herself a new blacksmith, someone as skilled as Ivy. She doubted that someone like that even existed. Kyra also thought on the slavers, the same organization that destroyed the light glimmer of hope she'd gained years ago; the same ones who destroyed her second chance for a happy future. Them attacking a fortress meant that they'd grown in number and in boldness, terrible things coming from a group like that. Who knew what could follow.

But, most of all, she thought on what Steve had told her. She tried to convince herself that it was a coincidence, that it was all just the product of a madman's imagination. But that nickname, _Fallen Beast_ , was just too accurate to be the product of a coincidence. Even after Steve started his watch and Kyra laid down to sleep, she just kept thinking, wide awake. Eventually though, she fell into a hazy, dreamless sleep.

* * *

When she woke up, she was alone in the small hut. Rive still napped soundly at her side, but Steve was nowhere to be seen. _All for the better._ Kyra picked everything up quickly and set on her way. Sagen was just were she left him, all tied up and broody. Nothing that an apple couldn't fix. Just like that, she was back on the road; just as if nothing had happened.

Her next stop showed no disturbance. It was a place hidden in the depths of a birch forest, a small valley flanked by two tall mountains and split by a rocky creek. Kyra would have never gone to such a place, a couple of miles away from the main road and triple that distance from any settlement, if it weren't for a rumor she'd heard from a drunk adventurer at a night market a couple of months ago. He had told stories about a great seer, living deep within that very forest, with a taste for elven steel and gold to spare. The 'seer' thing Kyra did not believe – she had met enough people who claimed otherworldly powers to destroy any faith on the possibility of humans ever possessing magic. Those abilities were on the arsenal of many creatures in the world, but not in man's. Greed and gold, however, she did believe in.

Once in said valley, it wasn't hard to find her objective. The curved cobblestone roof of a rather bizarre house loomed high above the treetops. The building seemed twisted, stretched, and bent. Two towers snaked up from its sides, as if deformed arms reaching towards the heavens. It resembled an overgrown mushroom, in a strange way.

Kyra went to knock the door, her merchant speech ready. However, the spruce entrance swung open right before her hand touched the wood.

"Good morning my dear, it's just about time you arrived." A woman standing on the other side of the door cooed. She seemed just as odd as the house, with hair like a bird's nest and a stretch of patterned wool for a dress. Her age was a mystery; her mess of a hair was as black as coal and her skin was wrinkle free, but her teeth were yellowed and her olive skin mottled. "Come on in, I've been expecting you, Kyra."

She stiffened. _How…?_ Immediately, her mind went back to Steve. There was no possible way this was connected, right?

"How do I know your name? I'm a seer, remember?" The woman's bright green eyes glinted mysteriously, as if proving a point. "The gods speak to me… well, _the_ god. The others are gone." She cackled. "You are confused, aren't you? The other chosen ones have all reacted the same way, don't worry."

 _Chosen ones… gods… What the hell is happening here?_

Before Kyra could say anything, the woman yanked her inside and slammed the door shut before Rive, who had been calmly watching the exchange, could enter. Surprisingly, the wolf showed no signs of protest.

"Hey!" Kyra, finally finding her voice, protested. "What are you doing?"

"You'll see." The woman chanted. She waltzed around the room, which had a hearth roaring in the middle. It was dark and the heavy musk of incense and burning birch bark stood out like a beacon in a clear summer night. Garlands with multiple dried flowers, mushrooms, leaves, woods, and bones hung from the low roof, and Kyra did her best to avoid them as she stepped closer to the fire. _I should leave._ She thought, but didn't. Curiosity started burning in her heart, just like the birch did in the fire.

"My name's is Weyla, if you are curious." The woman reappeared from the maze of garlands before the fire, a bunch of leaves and flowers in one hand and a wooden bowl in the other. She unceremoniously tossed the bunch into the fire, which roared in answer, releasing a big puff of smoke; and beckoned Kyra closer. "Come, my dear, don't be afraid."

Kyra hesitated. "I don't know what you are doing, but I didn't come for any of it. I came here to sell…"

"To sell me a fake elven sword." Weyla interrupted. "I know."

Kyra frowned. "Well, if you won't buy it, I'll take my leave."

"Who said I won't buy it? It's not really made by elves, but it's still a nice blade." Weyla smiled, and her eyes seemed to glow eerily in the dimness. "Now, come here. I have a friend that wishes to meet you."

After a few seconds of thought, she gave in to curiosity. Kyra's common sense screamed at her to _get out_ , but the blare of mystery blurred it completely. She stood facing the woman and eyed the bowl cautiously. "What is that?"

Weyla pushed the bowl into her hands. "Something you must drink." Kyra looked down at the bowl – it was a clear liquid, in any other situation she might have thought it was water. She looked back at the older looking woman, who just smiled. "Just do it."

Sweating – either from the heat or from nervousness – Kyra brought up the bowl to her lips. _What are you doing? Stop!_ Quickly, she gulped down all of the liquid and let the bowl clatter to the ground.

It was bitter, unbelievably bitter; a fit of coughing made her body shake and sway. She continued coughing, even though the bitterness was gone. A strangling pain welled in her chest and she clawed at her throat, gasped, and continued coughing. "W-what!?" She managed to say. Before long, she found herself unable to breath. Panicking, Kyra looked up to the woman, who grinned.

"Send him my regards!"

* * *

Kyra opened her eyes to a purely white room. She was sitting on a white block that jutted from the otherwise immaculate floor. Light flooded from invisible sources in countless directions, causing her to cast a ring of long shadows around her. She tried to stand, but it was as if she were stuck to the chair. What was going on? She cursed at the woman… Wayla, was it? She must have drugged her, and quite heavily.

"We're not in a good mood today, huh?"

She almost jumped out of her skin, if she had any at all. After all, something told her that that white room was a fragment of her imagination; a spiritual place of sorts. She whipped towards the voice, whose owner turned out to be a middle aged, bearded man. Kyra frowned. She'd never seen the man before, which made no sense if her theory that what she was seeing was a creation of her imagination were true.

The man looked around. Kyra quickly noted that, unlike her, he cast no shadows.

"Well, isn't this curious?" The man bore a saddened expression. "I seem to have chosen someone who doesn't believe in my existence."

 _Chosen?_ Alright, the recent events were starting to affect her imagination, apparently. "Excuse me?"

"This place." He opened his arms wide and looked up. "It's meant to represent the owner's belief on the gods and such. In this case, the owner being you." He pointed at me. "Usually people have a bunch of stuff in here, depending on what they think of religion and deities. But you don't believe in any of that, do you?" He looked at his feet and threw his arms wide open in exasperation. "I don't even have a shadow!"

Kyra scoffed. "I'm sorry, but I don't understand what you mean." _Nor I care._

"What I am trying to say, is that you don't have any faith on gods, do you?"

She rolled her eyes. "Of course not." The man seemed offended; whether from her answer or bluntness, she did not know. Still, it was the truth. She might have believed in the gods and their feats on her past, but not anymore. Tragedy was what had pulled her away from them; if there truly were gods around, would they really let people suffer such pain? Would they just ignore the sinners end evildoers that stalked the land and threatened their creation? _No._

Kyra leaned forwards. "Who are you and why are you telling me this? This is a creation of my subconscious, isn't it?" She asked, tone sharp.

She was starting to get annoyed by what had been happening. That old man, Steve, and his unsettling quest; Wayla with her odd behavior; and now an unknown entity questioning her belief? The little layer of mild politeness she had gained over the years was starting to wear thin.

The man sighed. "I'm Notch."

" _Go eat shit_ ," she hissed almost instantly, all manners lost. "So this was that woman's objective? Drug me so I would imagine a meeting with a god? She's one of those religious fanatics that shoves their religion down people's throats, right? _I'm not buying it_. Gods don't exist – it's all a naptime story for kids that ask way too many questions."

The so-called Notch sighed. "Look, I don't have time to argue with you, so just sit still and listen."

He waved his right hand parallel to the ground, and a three-block long table emerged from the table, separating him from Kyra.

"Now, let's get down to business." He leaned his hands onto the table and stared right at Kyra, all emotion save from seriousness gone. "You have probably heard the story of Mincraftia's creation-"

" _Leyend._ " Kyra interrupted, sharply.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Believe what you may, but it's real. I have been keeping everything in place all this time, although honestly, it's a bit hard for a single God." His eyes softened. "I can barely keep the bases of the dimensions from crumbling into a big mess, so I have not much power to spare for the inhabitants themselves. That's why…" He sighed. "Such sin is wandering about." He cast Kyra a sideways gaze. "You should know, with everything that has happened to you in the past…"

"Get to the point already." She suddenly snapped, patience slipping away as well. If there was something she absolutely _despised_ , it were mentions of her past. She wished to forget it all, to leave it all behind.

"Right." His gaze hardened once again.

"So, Deathfire, the substance that caused the Paradise's destruction, can't be really extinguished completely. As long as the universe is unbalanced, it will keep on burning. And, without the four gods working together – Herobrine, Vita, Mortem, and myself – the universe will never fall back in balance. So, to at least keep it in check, I split the fire's source in ten fragments and hid them. Seven of them are here in Minecraftia, one is in the Nether, the other in the End, and I threw the last one in the Void. As long as the fragments aren't all reunited, Deathfire isn't a threat to this world."

Kyra huffed. "I still don't know what any of that has to do with me. Are you trying to give me a history lesson?"

Notch rolled his eyes. "Just shush and listen. So, not all of Mortem's descendants died back in the war. Most of them, yes; but not all. They surrendered after she was defeated and I… well, I granted them mercy and let them live along all the other survivors here in Minecraftia."

"And let me guess," Kyra drawled, "Now they are trashing around and causing havoc?"

"I limited their powers, of course." He said, ignoring the question. "I took away their immortality and locked away their beastly forms. Since then… well, centuries passed and I kind of lost track of them. Since they aren't of my creation, I can't follow them or their kin like I can with the rest of this world's inhabitants. They are surely all dead by now, but I'm sure they had successors of their own. As the blood passed on, the locks on their original forms must have weakened and they can surely take on those bodies by now without much hassle.

"Point is, there's been some disturbances around the Overworld, and I fear these descendants are involved. I would usually let them be killed by humans since… Well, humans have a weird love for killing things stronger than them. But… the areas were this disturbances happen…"

"It's were you hid the Deathfire?" Kyra interrupted the monologue. "Don't tell me, I have to clean up your mess? I won't."

Notch nodded grimly. "You are right, and I had a feeling you would decline. I can't allow that, however. I don't know exactly what is going on, but I need you to investigate and terminate this set of events."

Angered and feeling particularly rebellious, Kyra slammed her hands on the table. "I said I won't." She glared at him dead in the eye. "I don't know what game that woman or that guy from yesterday are playing, but I refuse to be involved. It's not like you are real, anyways."

"You don't have a choice!" Notch suddenly exclaimed, eyes wild. Quickly, however, he regained his composure.

Taking no mind of his outburst, Kyra opened her mouth to complain, only to be interrupted.

"Fire is coming." He said coldly. His eyes, which had expressed so many emotions during the conversation, where now hard and calculating; the eyes of a leader. "Wayla has seen it already. Her visions are but a possibility for the many different outcomes of the future, but it has been a constant scene lately. All the visions are slightly different and equally opaque, but the same seven people fight in the ones that show the most hope. One of them is you, Kyra. You are necessary in the war to come."

"Bullshit." Kyra hissed softly, eyes averted and reluctant.

"If words won't reach you, then I guess that fear will have to do" He muttered and, once again, waved his hand over the table.

Eyes narrowed, Kyra carefully watched his actions. Soon however, her deep blue orbs became wide with fear as a curtain of green flames sprouted out from the table. Panic, desperation, and other instinctive emotions flooded her immediately as adrenaline was released into her bloodstream in the most primal of survival reactions took her over. In a fraction of a second, all thoughts were gone to let a single alarm blare as loud as it possibly could: _run_. Yet, she remained unable to move as the flames flickered and licked the air. Her breathing became short and ragged as she leaned away as far as possible from it and her muscles ached and became tense.

Then, as fast as it had appeared, the fire was gone, leaving her breathing hard and trembling.

"That was only a mirage, Kyra." Notch stated. "If you don't help, I fear you might have to face the real thing. Everyone will."

"I've seen it before." Kyra slurred between shaky breaths, without giving it much thought. "In my nightmares."

"It's normal." The man softly said. "The fear for deathfire is engraved deep in the DNA of all living creatures. You are no exception. Now," his tone hardened again, "we don't have much time. Look at your arm."

Still shaking, and with her rebellious demeanor gone, Kyra complied. The image of a dragon was engraved on her skin, moving and curling around her arm. "The other six that I have chosen will also have tattoos like yours, that way you'll be able to identify yourselves when you meet. It will also be there once you wake up… I hope that dispels your lack of faith."

Shadows started swirling before Kyra's eyes, and she started feeling dizzy. Something told her that the meeting was over. However, she had a question. A very, very important question.

"Why… why me?"

Notch hummed. "I don't really know… Probably because you are the last one of your kind. Well, aside from the guardian of the End." He kept silent as Kyra's consciousness continued slipping away. Then, suddenly, he chuckled. "Will you look at this… I have a shadow!"


	5. Chapter 4

_She was_ afraid _._

 _She was hidden, as she always seemed to be in the turning points of her life. Hidden and afraid._

 _Gripping to the ledge that blocked her from the disaster 30 blocks below, she stared down at the chaos unfurling on the cavern's floor. Her teeth risked chattering as she suppressed the cries and sobs and pleads that threatened to blossom from her sore throat._

 _Below, familiar roars and growls tore through the air along with whoops and yells from six or so men, all dressed in glossy light blue armor that reflected iridescent light and blandishing weapons at the long necked creature they had trapped against the cavern wall. The child could only watch helplessly as the creature snapped and breathed fire onto the men, who simply dodged the attacks or gulped down bottles of pinkish red liquid if hit. Some held swords that mirrored their armor, others loosed arrows that bounced off the dragon's vibrant red-and-gold scales. They weren't really doing any damage, but those men weren't the cause of her fear. Instead, it was another man who was scavenging around the cavern's mouth, picking up gold and diamonds blocks from a pile near the cavern's entrance. Beside him was a corpse, the still warm body of a much larger dragon with its royal blue scales tainted in red._

 _Finally, the man stood up and pulled out his sword: a black, long blade that shone eerily under the scarce sunlight, almost seeming to pulse below the scarlet blood of its most recent victim._

 _The hidden child had to bite her tongue to keep herself from crying out as the man approached the rest of the group, waving his sword around as if testing out its weight._

 _Tears spilled from Kyra's eyes and streamed down her scaled cheeks. They were going to kill her too._

 _They were going to kill her mother._

Kyra's eyes shot open, ragged breaths storming her chest as the fear she'd experienced on her dream followed her into the waking world. She closed her eyes, steadying her breaths. _It's okay. It's all over._

She sat up and looked around. She wasn't on that cramped, dark room anymore, but rather in a much more open space. It was a small bedroom of sorts with a large window to a side and bookshelves covering the wall across it. The bed she had been laying in was clean and fluffy, faintly smelling of soap.

A sharp burning sensation on her left arm made her turn her attention to it, making her remember. The image of a dragon curled and twisted around her arm, leaving a trail of smoke particles sizzling on its trail.

 _No._ Realization sunk in Kyra's mind as she recalled her earlier conversation, the one she'd discarded as part of her imagination, but now seemed excruciatingly real. _It isn't over._

 _It just started._

Her chest heaved and her hands sweated as she stared at the dragon on her arm, seemingly mocking her with its red eyes that shone bright against its stark black hide. After a few rounds up and down her arm, it stopped, resting its head on the back of her hand.

The door opened and Kyra's gaze snapped towards it. In came Wayla, a wide smile playing on her chapped lips.

"You're awake."

Kyra didn't say anything as she continued panting with wide eyes.

"Oh, poor little thing." The apparently older woman cooed and stepped briskly towards Kyra's panicked form. "You must be so confused…"

 _No. I'm not confused. Just…_

"…why?" Kyra finally whispered, her voice shakier than intended. "After all I've done to live peacefully… Why? Haven't I suffered enough?"

She had experienced too many loses already, too much suffering. She never understood the passion humans had for adventure: that smoldering desire to put everything they had on the line. She never craved much for it; maybe her past selves had, but not anymore.

But now, she was forced to go in a quest that many adventurers would probably kill to be a part of.

"No one can say for sure, darling." Was Wayla's answer. "Things such as 'destiny' and the 'future' are matters not even all the gods to ever exist can predict or understand. It's all part of the flow of 'time', and time has no master. However, I can tell you this: Suffering is a test. A cruel trial set down for the greatest of heroes, just so they can understand loss. And it is through this understanding that one can truly appreciate life's worth. Suffering is, at the end, what gives great men a reason to keep going." Her smile saddened. "Do you want to keep going?"

Kyra averted her gaze.

"Another hero arrived while you were out." She felt the bed creak beside her as Wayla sat down. "He should be finishing up his chat with Notch right about now. Want to go meet him?"

Not really eager, Kyra nodded.

* * *

Her fellow hero looked everything but human. Well, not _everything,_ but most definitely not human.

He was slumped against a wall in the room with the low ceiling, his figure almost melting with the darkness and smoke that lingered in the air. Short, spiky black hair poked from behind a metal skull mask that seemed to have taken a heavy blow to its left side, judging by the cracks that ran along the metal and the chipped off piece that exposed the ashen grey skin hidden underneath. Other than that and his ears, no more skin could be seen. A dark red jacket was zipped up to his neck, worn out black jeans covered his legs, dark brown work boots took care of his feet, and he even wore black leather gloves.

"He's a gloomy fellow, isn't he?" Wayla remarked as she caught Kyra staring. "Don't worry, he's still a human."

Kyra scowled, the memory of the men in her dream still haunting her. "I'd rather he not be."

Wayla giggled, which sounded extremely out of place in the gloom. "Of course. Anyways, his name is Alex. Alex Icarus."

Apparently responding to the mention of his name, Alex stirred slightly before stilling again. Then, from below his mask, his eyes snapped open.

He didn't move, just seeming to observe the scene before him. His eyes lingered on Wayla for a couple of seconds before moving to Kyra. The latter stiffened under the expressionless gaze.

"Who is this?" He finally spoke, voice hushed and rough.

"She's another hero. Her name is-"

"It's Kyra." The young woman's voice rang out loud and clear as she straightened her back and stared back at the newcomer, not willing to back down.

Alex stood up and noticed the dragon on her arm, which had begun stirring once again. He removed his right glove, revealing both his ashen, cracked skin, and a black sun that shone eerily in the back of his hand.

"It's true then…" he mused, his voice barely audible. He glanced back at the woman, or rather, girl, with lazy eyes. She had long, black tresses that were pulled back in a ponytail, and her bangs framed an oval face with high cheekbones and sharp, sea-colored eyes. She was also tall, maybe even a couple inches taller than himself, and had smooth, tanned skin. The thing that most caught his attention, though, was a long, pinkish scar running down from the side of her neck, over her collarbone, and disappearing into her white tank crop top.

"What are you staring at?" Kyra hissed as grew tired of being stared at as if she were some sort of exposition.

"You. Who else?"

Kyra glared intently, not willing to answer to the ridiculous comment.

"Now that you've met each other, let's set you up; alright?" Wayla declared giddily, apparently oblivious to the tense atmosphere.

* * *

Her new (forced) travel partner turned out to be quite silent. She could only hear his breathing, as silent as the wind; and the constant clack of his horse's hooves against the dirt.

Kyra greatly appreciated the silence.

She took the time to think about what would come, and what she would have to do. Wayla had left them a map with bright red x's pointing out their objectives, or at least the five that were located on the known continents. In the moment, they were headed to the nearest one: Vulu volcano. It was just around a two day ride away, maybe a third day if they were particularly unlucky.

"We should set camp." Kyra finally decided to speak up. A couple of hours had passed by since they left Wayla's hut behind and the sun had finally started to set, painting the sky in gold.

"Why?" Her companion inquired, making no move to slow down his black steed.

Kyra fought the urge to roll her eyes. _Are you serious?_ "It's getting dark."

"I know."

"Are you intending to travel through the night?"

"Yes. Problem?"

Ever so lightly annoyed, Kyra spurred Sagen forwards and halted him diagonal to Alex, stopping him as well. "Yes, I do have a problem."

"Get out of the way."

"No."

"Fine."

Kyra blinked, having expected a bit more fight from him. Instead, he turned around and trotted away.

"Wait a second," Kyra called, quickly catching up to him. "Where are you going?"

Alex didn't answer.

Kyra gritted her teeth, now definitely annoyed by his actions and lack of communication. Just as she was about to snap something – anything – at him, Alex stopped and dismounted.

"Let's set up camp here. It's quite safe." He said while tying his horse to a fence post. "I'll go look for some firewood…" He stared at Kyra for a moment. "And something to eat, maybe. You set things up and keep your temper in check." With that, he left.

Kyra fumed. _He has some nerve…_ To tell her what to do _and_ criticize her temper?

Doing her best to keep calm, Kyra surveyed the perimeter. The so called 'safe zone' was the top of a pretty much bare hill, covered in only some red and orange tulips. She rolled her eyes, but set to work nonetheless.

Alex reappeared just after she'd set up a two block high dirt ring around the hilltop and put down enough torches around it to keep mobs from spawning close by. He then put up a campfire, as silent as always.

"So," Kyra started after setting down her woolen blankets. "Uh… what do you do for a living?"

"I'm a mercenary."

"You kill people for money, then?"

"Basically."

Kyra pulled her long red leather jacket closer to her body closer to herself as she sat before the campfire. Just then, she felt a flurry of air by her side and smoke particles blocked her view for a couple of seconds. She looked at the white wolf, who she hadn't seen in a couple of hours, as it trotted towards her. "Oh, hello." She patted the wolf's head in greeting. "What were you doing?" As always, her question remained unanswered. Instead, Rive set down her head on Kyra's lap, clearly demanding to be pet. Kyra complied.

Alex, who was now comfortably sitting across the fire, looked at the pair in slight bewilderment. "That's a ridiculously big ball of fur."

"Yeah. Problem?"

"Not really." He pulled out a couple of apples from his inventory and chucked them at Kyra, who reacted in the nick of time and almost dropped them.

She hissed, "What was that for!?"

"Eat." Alex said simply, turning to poke at the burning embers with a stick.

Kyra was about to protest, but decided against eat and bit down on the fruit instead, staring through the flames at her new 'companion'. She was fine about his silence at first, but the plainness of his words had started to annoy her. _Should I ditch him when he falls asleep?_ It sounded pretty reasonable. However, a question popped up in her mind. Did he even fall asleep? Sure, if he was human like Wayla had said, he should, but something told her he wasn't a simple human. His ashen skin alone put his humanity in question, and throughout the day Kyra had noticed two other things: she hadn't seen him eat or drink on the whole day, and he seemed to never blink. Ultimately, she just _had_ to ask.

"You are not really human, are you?"

Alex didn't stop poking the fire, and for a second Kyra feared that he wouldn't answer her question.

"I am human." Came his answer, as plain as always.

Kyra rubbed her hands together as a chilly breeze came in to tousle her hair. "Well, you don't look like one. What the hell happened to you?"

"I got cursed."

Kyra frowned lightly. "Right." She wanted to continue digging into the matter, but decided against it. _The less I know, the better._ She reasoned. Curses weren't all that uncommon in Minecraftia; witches seemed obsessed with them, however… Her gaze focused on the tiny little bits of gray skin she could see. Most curses only involved things such as luck, health, or mental conditions; yet very few involved actual physical changes, as had obviously happened with Alex. _It must have been a very powerful witch. Just what did he do to get cursed?_

She did her best to bite down her questions.

"It's my turn to ask." Kyra looked up in surprise as Alex interrupted her thoughts, finally showcasing some emotion in his tone: curiosity. "Where did you get that scar?"

"…huh?"

"Don't tell me you haven't noticed that horrendous gash running down your shoulder."

Kyra's eyebrow twitched at the harsh comment. "Of course I've noticed. I'm not an idiot."

"You sure act like one."

It took Kyra's every little bit of self-control to not pounce at him at that very moment.

"One that gets angry way too fast, as well." Alex remarked flatly. "Now, answer my question."

Scowling, Kyra put a hand against her neck, right where it started. "The man who killed my parents did it to me."

"How did you survive?" he rested his chin on his palm. "It must have hit your carotid by how deep it looks."

Kyra pursed her lips into a thin, white line. She knew the answer very well, but she felt unable of revealing it. Instead, she shrugged. "I guess I was lucky."

The mercenary frowned at her from beneath his mask, obviously seeing through the lie. He kept quiet about it though, just flopping down on the grass and crossing his arms beneath his head. "Well then," he muttered. "You go to sleep, I'll take the first watch."

* * *

 **Okay. I'm not happy at all with this chapter, but I refuse to write it again for the third time. No-no.**

 **So, a couple of things will change from now on… don't worry though, it's not anything serious. I'm just going to switch to first person for most of the story and will be constantly switching in perspectives throughout it. For example, half of one chapter could be narrated from Kyra's point of view, while the other half from another of the main characters'.**

 **Don't forget to leave a review and submit an OC if you haven't done it yet :D**


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